In a world full of Johns, Bobs, Bills and Toms, having an unusual name can be a curse or a blessing.
As a first grader I wanted to be named Johnnie or Bobbie or Billie or Tommie -- just about anything except Arvid.
By the time I was a young adult I realized that a unique name can be an asset and I continue to believe that. Once people commit an uncommon name to memory they don't soon forget and that's a good thing in business. With an equally uncommon surname, however, I spend a lot of time spelling my name for people.
Mom tells me that my father picked out my name. He had a second-cousin named Arvid and that's what he chose for his first born. The name has served me well but I am glad Dad didn't have a cousin named Dwezel.
By the way, Arvid is a Swedish name meaning "Eagle Forest." Lately, I think it means "Bald Eagle Forest." It's a popular name in Sweden and correspondent in the Netherlands tells me that Arvid is an increasingly popular name for baby boys in northern Europe.
It's interesting to observe the evolution of names over the years. According to a Social Security website, the most popular names for babies born last year were Jacob and Emily. Just 20 years earlier, the most popular baby names were Michael and Jessica.
Rewinding back to the year I was born, 1948, the most popular baby names were James and Linda. Remember how many little baby boomers in the '50s were named Jim and Linda? If you aren't a Jim or a Linda I'll bet you had one in your class.
In 1927 when my parents were born the most popular baby names were Robert and Mary. My paternal grandparents were born in 1899 and the most popular names that year were John and (surprise!) Mary.
In Germany's East Friesland and the Netherlands my ancestors traditionally named their children after grandparents and aunts and uncles.
My maternal grandparents came to the U.S. as young people with birth names of Dirk and Marijke, which they later they anglicized to Dick and Marie. Most of my 12 aunts and uncles on that side bear the Frisian names of grandparents, aunts and uncles.
This system survived only one generation in the U.S. and my cousins are known by more traditional English-based names.
While I have a strong libertarian streak in me, I am concerned with how some parents give their children exceptionally strange names. A name that may be cute for a baby may not wear as well for a 300 pound football player or a 120 pound school teacher. And the spellings some parents come up with - I feel sorry for the kids... and their teachers.
I heard recently of a mother who was upset because no one could pronounce her daughter's name: La-a. Care to take a guess on how to pronounce that? I needed help with it. It is pronounced La-dash-ah. Get it? La(dash)a. Now that's just plain stupid.
Some folks claim an ill-chosen name can be a sentence for a person. Pop star Madonna said, "I sometimes think I was born to live up to my name. How could I be anything else but what I am` having been named Madonna? I would either have ended up a nun or this."
Trust me, Madonna will never be accused of living like a nun. I think she's making an excuse for her lifestyle. I've known other women named Madonna who have lived lives of integrity.
A name is not necessarily a curse, though I would refrain from naming a daughter Trixie.
Perhaps we spend too much time selecting a good name for our babies and not enough time working to ensure that their name remains a good name throughout their lifetime. "A good name," wrote King Solomon "is to be chosen rather than great riches."
A good name is attained by many actions and may be lost by one. Unfortunately, I don't know the name of the person who said that.
(Arvid Huisman can be contacted at huismaniowa@msn.com. (c) 2008 by Huisman Communications.)
